If You Leave
by Magnetic Luck
Summary: When Remus infiltrates Greyback's pack, he's forced to face a few home truths, along with some of Fenrir's more sinister methods of persuasion. Remus/Tonks Remus/Fenrir if you squint.
1. Touch you once

He knew. He always knew. He could smell him even now; amidst the various other scents of his -pack.- He could always pick out that delicious scent. The same familiar innocence drenched in blood. Oh, how he had missed his pup. Fenrir moved slowly, feet guiding him through the tangle of sleeping bodies, through their docile forms towards the -threat-. The cowering wretch himself was coated in dirt, the sweet embrace of human blood upon his clothes, under his finger nails, and in his hair. It was absent from his mouth, noted the senior wolf, but it paved the way to the promise of his true nature.

**"You finally gave up the facade then?"** He sneered, foot nudging the greying wizard with a hint of malice.

**"I don't belong there."** Came the muted reply, a hint of sadness in his voice.

**"You don't belong here either unless you're willing to embrace the bloodlust. Can you do that, -pup?- Or should I rip your throat out now and have done?"** Fenrir growled with a hint of amusement, circling his prey with a mixture of sadistic pleasure and disdain.

**"If that's what it takes. I can't deny it anymore." **Tone uneven, his voice faltered, but somehow his face tilted upwards, sunken eyes locking onto Greyback as he swallowed his pride. For the good of the Order, and to retain his sanity, he had to do it. To subject himself to the reign of the beast, the lure of the curse and the state of total, unbridled, instinct.

Content with the reply, Fenrir let loose a bark of calculated laughter, hand reaching forwards to pull the man to his feet, dirtied fingers slapping him hard on the back, as he sneered an uncharacteristic note of amusement. A sinister smile painting across his face, his tongue shot forth abruptly to wet the drying surface of his lips as he tossed his head back in a louder, more mirthful howl of appreciation. **"Welcome home, Lupin."**

_Three days earlier…_

**"You're really going aren't you?"** She hadn't needed to ask; she'd known the minute it had been mentioned at the last Order meeting, that he was going to go. Some line about rallying werewolf allies, and infiltrating the pack of a known psychopath. It was suicide, yet nobody was being man enough to admit it. He was expendable, the -wolf- amidst their own ranks. Tonks felt like the only one that seemed to care, the only one losing the last good thing in her life. But she didn't have the heart to make her last words to him a lecture either.

Leaning against the doorway to the living room, an oversized pink nightshirt clung to her frame as she wrapped an arm around her waist, her other hand hovering near her mouth as she chewed nervously against her fingernails. He was packing, ready to run off into the wilderness and face certain death. It made her feel sick - so lost, and so unwanted. The bigger picture meant that he might be able to recruit some more 'soldiers' to their cause, to tick those few extra boxes that could tip the scales in their favour. To make the world a safer place for them. The smaller picture, however, was the one she chose to dwell on. She was losing a friend, a lover, and the tiniest piece of hope.

**"Dora…I -have- to go."** Remus looked up from his meagre supplies and shot her an apologetic look as he tied together his last remaining effects. It was pitiful really, to have to leave the one person that made life living, solely for the purpose of ensuring that they continued to do precisely that. It bordered on traitorous in his bind, but his conscience had steeled itself, and now continued to remind him that this was for the best. An unavoidable occurrence that would grant them all salvation.

Her lip was quivering, he could see it from across the room. The faintest glimmer of tears shone brightly in her eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. Hands shaking slightly, he set the parcel down, and moved stealthily across the room to pause in front of her. Calloused digits move forwards to cup her face, tilting it her face upwards until he could look her in the eye. **"It'll be alright."** He didn't know if it was to convince himself or Tonks, but regardless he hoped it was true. Lips pressing to her forehead, he offered no resistance as her arms snaked up around his shoulders and held him close.

Remus sighed against her hair, her sobs now audible against his chest as he stroked her back in comfort. **"Shhh."** He breathed softly against her ear. Soothing tones calming her nerves until finally their was silence. He'd never heard such a blissful sound before, although anything to drown out the deafening misery in his ears was a welcome occurrence. Detaching herself from his chest, the bubblegum witch pulled backwards, hands still clutching to his shoulders as she sought out his eyes.

**"Promise me you'll come back."** Tonks demanded, her voice still heavy with emotion.

**"Dora…"** Remus couldn't make such a promise, not when the odds were so against him.

**"Promise me."** She demanded again.

**"I promise."** And he hoped that it was true.


	2. Touch you twice

Remus felt like he'd died and gone to hell. Rolling over on the freezing ground, he pulled his knees closer to his chest, pain tearing it's way through every bone in his body as he suppressed a shudder. It was too close to the full moon. In eighteen hours his body would be wracked with spasms as the bones reformed, his teeth would sharpen, and his lust for blood would grown to become uncontrollable. He could see it happening, he knew precisely what he was going to become, and it made him long for the wolfsbane that would've allowed him to keep his sanity.

Back pressed to the foliage littered floor, the haggard remains of his clothes hung limply from his emaciated body as he winced in pain. The last fortnight had been far from easy. His attempts to live as a 'human' had been met with scorn and violence. The bite marks and gashes now adorning his body serving as a testament to his betrayal to his kin. It was penance for his naivety, a rite of passage into the pack to prove that he belonged. Tonight he would cement his loyalty in blood, to make the vow with an innocent life, and to pledge his allegiance to Greyback.

Eyes clamped tightly shut, his thought drifted to the bubblegum nymph he had so callously left behind. The thought of her safe and well, (depressed though she may undoubtedly be) was the only thing getting him through each painful day. He thought of Sirius too, and the joy he would have when they finally reunited in the near future. His mind was allowing him to envision heaven, a place in which Padfoot and Prongs had already scoped out the hotspots for drinking, and could take him on a rollercoaster of a ride when he finally joined their ranks in the afterlife. Perhaps that was presuming too much. He wasn't innocent in all of this. He was a wolf, a plague. If anything, he deserved damnation to the deepest depths of hell for the act of violence he would have to partake in that day.

Grimacing as the sun crept steadily higher into the sky, Lupin flicked open and eye and groaned lightly as he pulled himself to a respectable sitting position. One hand dug into the ground at his feet as the other rubbed his unwashed hair. Finally his gaze shifted to rest on the battered wrist watch encasing his radius, eyes widening slightly at the realisation of the time. Today was the full moon, which meant it was what…the 16th? He was supposed to be meeting someone from the Order in just under half an hour, Kingsley as far as he'd been aware, was the poor bastard lumbered with facing his unkempt form.

He was making no effort to look respectable. What was the point? Tattered and broken, his injured form stood, moving past his 'comrades' ,into the forest towards the secluded meeting place. Dried blood stuck his shirt to his back, the obvious slashes across his torso showing glimpses of bruised flesh to the world in an explosion of misery and agony. The stench of death was overpowering, lingering over his person with a vice like grip. Remus had long since gone past caring, and was now even beginning to enjoy the familiarity of such a wild aroma.

Speaking of wild, there was a particularly appetising rabbit hopping around mere feet away. Mouth watering at the idea of something so fresh and delectable in stomach, he barely noticed the audible pop of apparition nearby. He did however notice the smell. Even amidst that derelict remnants of his own stench, he could always tell, and it made his heart sink. Turning on the spot, his jaw dropped slightly at the sight of his darling nymph, her own look of quizzical distaste for his appearance sending his pulse thundering into his ears.

**"You shouldn't be here."** He hissed, bridging the gap between them just enough to shove her away. **"Where's Kingsley?"**

**"St Mungo's. Carrow got him pretty bad with the Cruciatus curse" **She responded solemnly, eyes trailing over every cut, bruise and scrape now covering his body. Her mouth opened wider still, eyes blazing with a shock so profound it looked like she was going to scream. **"What -happened- to you?"**

**"Initiation"** He responded calmly, a hint of a laugh issuing from his lips as he held her at arms length. She was creeping closer, trying to get near to him, even in this vile state. Remus wouldn't allow it, she deserved better. **"What's the news from the Order?"**

**"Hagrid made some progress with the giants, apparently Olympe had quite a bit of leeway with some of the French ones up in the Alps. We've upped protection on Harry, I'm at Hogsmede more or less 24/7 now, just to be within easy reach of any emergencies. We're still trying to rally support, it's just difficult. The attacks are getting more frequent, it's like deja vu. We've been here before; it doesn't end well."**

**"I see."** He nodded in response, pushing her back towards the trees in which she had just apparated from. **"I'm grateful you kept me informed, but it's not safe for you here Dora. In future, I ask that you stay away, alright?"**

Tonks shot him a contemptuous glance; smacking his hands away and grabbing hold of his filthy shirt for long enough to pull him close enough to kiss. Her lips meshed with his, the familiar warmth in her mouth serving as closure enough to her senses until she could have him back at her side. He didn't argue. In fact, once she'd instigated the action, he'd met it with a passion all of his own, arms enveloping her petite body as he pressed her body to his.

The euphoria was short lived, as common sense had resurfaced, kicking the wolf into submission as he tugged her away sharply, forehead pressing to hers as he breathed throatily to the auror.** "I love you, but you need to leave." **Opening her mouth to protest, Dora was met with a stern finger to her lips before he shook his head. ** "Now"**

He was speaking to her as if she was a petulant child, but deep down she knew he was right. With a great deal of effort, she complied with the request and disappeared off through the scattered trees towards a 'safe' apparition site. Both lost in thought, neither noticed the pair of menacing yellow eyes that had just witnessed the entire exchange.

And both, remained oblivious to the sinister plan now forming in the back of Greyback's mind.


	3. Don't let go

Sweet Merlin she was an idiot. What the hell had she been thinking? Remus rubbed his eyes wearily as he pushed his way back through the undergrowth, into the makeshift camp where the pack lay dormant. Stretching his aching neck, his muscles tensed, the pull of the evening's moon causing pain in his very bones themselves. It was only midday yet still the pull was excruciating, paving the way to an incomprehensible agony. Did she not know what day it was? How dangerous coming so close to his own personal -hell- this had been? So she was an idiot.

A heavenly scented, delicious to taste, fortified idiot.

Fingers brushing over his lips still so warm from the touch, the lupine individual slumped against the tree he'd come to call his own and sighed, hands immediately reaching to tangle themselves in his greying hair as he clung to it for dear life. He was a monster. A man that for all intents and purposes, had looked and smelled like the inside of a public toilet, yet still managed to get an appreciative kiss. He did wonder if he'd tasted like one too, but thought better than to ask. His behaviour was already bordering on certifiable as it was. Groaning he smacked his head back against the bark of the tree in frustration, willing his mind to knock itself back to reality, to stop thinking about the urge to mark his mate, and to simply focus on getting through tonight without an incident.

**"Where were you?"** Barked a voice next to his ear, drawing him from his self pitying chain of thought. His eyes shifted forwards, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as his gaze came into a sharp focus on the defined features of Greyback. Was he imagining it, or was that devious smile bordering on predatory?

**"What?"** Remus retorted nervously, his voice betraying himself as a slight look of panic edged across his eyes, glazing them over with a look of steeled determination.

**"Where were you an hour ago?"** Demanded the senior wolf, tongue flicking across his teeth with an impatient click.

**"I went for a walk, the rabbits looked tempting."** Lupin said quietly.

For a moment, the domineering man seemed to accept the line, his head canting from side to side in contemplation of the idea. It was only after a few seconds of blissful calm that he launched forwards, hands wrapping themselves firmly around his throat, pulling him to his feet as claws dug into the tender flesh of neck. **"Don't lie to me -pup!- You reek of humanity"** Fenrir spat, breath burning like fire upon his face. With an appraising sniff he invaded the younger man's personal space, delighting in the aroma of fresh blood, as his mouth came to rest just shy of his ear.

**"Tell me boy, does she taste as good as a succulent rabbit? Will her blood run as sweet in my mouth, as it drips from her throat? The pack is hungry is it not? Or perhaps the wolf in -you- is hungry."** Barking another sharp round of laughter as the man beneath his grip instinctively tensed, he couldn't help but revel in the look of pure terror that embraced him. He was trying to curb his instincts, to suppress the inner wolf, and it amused Fenrir greatly. He wanted him to let the beast out, and if he had to goad him into it, then so be it. He needed to let go.

**"I wonder if she'll scream at me from the flat of her back. To cry out as my teeth sink into her shoulder, to wrap those silky thighs so tightly around my-"**

**"No."** Remus forced himself forwards, hands striking the grip from his throat with an unbridled fury. He dove at the wolf, his own hands clawing into the man's neck, eyes burning with an anger so intense it looked as though it may set fire to his soul. He dug his dirt strewn nails into the heated flesh, blood oozing so readily from the minor indentations. Bringing his face closer, he pushed his arm down to his neck in a choke hold, gritting his teeth as he spat the words like venom. **"If you touch her. I'll kill you."**

He wasn't putting nearly enough effort in to kill someone, noted Greyback as the pressure across his trachea hindered his ability to breathe only slightly. It wasn't enough to do any damage, but it was a start. The nymph was apparently his trigger, and oh how he would enjoy using her to poke at the caged beast until finally he returned to his roots. Lips curving into a cruel smirk, a low rumble of laughter escaped his mouth as he pushed Lupin off of him, tongue making that same chiding click as he stalked back off to the rest of his pack.

He was so close to the edge, you could taste it in the air. He just needed that one final push into oblivion, and Fenrir knew just how to do it.


	4. For any price

It was all going so painfully wrong. Head in his hands, Remus cursed the situation. He cursed his affliction, he cursed Greyback but most of all he cursed himself. Why did it have to be so complicated? All it would take was one moment of anger, to just kill the threat, to wipe him off the face of the Earth and go back to his calm oblivion. He could go home; they all could. It would've made everything simpler, more tolerable even. But it wasn't the case. Today was a disaster.

The sun was already making it's descent. In a little over an hour, the change would take hold and he would find himself at the mercy of his untamed self. Without the potion to sooth the beast, he was dangerous and wild. It scared him, because after his brief interlude with Greyback, he couldn't help but feel that something awful was going to happen. Doubt was creeping in, and he didn't like it. That laugh had chilled his blood, and the thought of Dora…-his- Dora, at the mercy of that monster sickened him. It all paled in comparison to the reality of what lay ahead however.

She would've long since disapparated, he told himself. And right now, she would be at home, safe and sound, flicking through her coveted copy of Pride and Prejudice. She could remain oblivious to the fact that by dawn tomorrow, he would be a murderer. The taste of blood would be upon his lips, all traces of humanity so far behind him that he held no hope that he would even claw them back. Remus shuddered at the thought, the final part of his initiation to the pack, was to become the very thing he'd tried so desperately hard to distance himself from for the last three decades.

Bile rising to the back of his throat, the aged professor spat it to the ground, teeth grinding together as he tried to calm his nerves and suppress his disgust. His thoughts drifted back to his time in the shrieking shack, surrounded by his friends. Without the invention of wolfsbane, he'd been left alone to his own devices. He'd nearly killed before, and injured himself more times than he'd care to admit, but he had prevailed. If he could just visualise the faces of Sirius and James, hell even Peter, perhaps he could somehow curb the animalistic tendencies.

He had to try.

Rubbing his face, finally Lupin stood, brushing his hands over his battered body, feet moving with difficulty towards the amassing members of his kin. The sky was already darkening, a hazy aura of grey clouding the air as he stopped before Fenrir, head inclining in an undignified nod. The circle of lycanthropic individuals around him closed, blocking all exits as a cowering child was thrust at his feet. Remus narrowed his gaze, the urge to vomit slowly building once again. They couldn't expect him to…he was what? Nine? Ten at a push. He wouldn't kill a child, regardless of what was at stake. Even as a wild and untamed thing he still had the propriety to not injure another's young.

**"Make the oath. Seal it in blood -pup-"** Commanded the domineering leader of the pack.

The initiate hesitated shaking his head. **"He's just a child."**

**"You refuse me?"** Fenrir asked, sounding positively gleeful to such an extent that it made the hair on the back of Lupin's neck prickle to attention. **" I thought as much, but I shall wait."**

He didn't have long to go. A few more minutes and the first flickers of moonlight would puncture the darkness, leaving him at the mercy of his feral impulses. He could already feel the change building, his muscles contracting as his bones prepared for an agonising metamorphosis. His pupils were dilating, eyes already beginning to fade to a subtle yellow. He didn't want this to happen, he couldn't do it.

He'd rather die.

A fact that was becoming distinctly more likely as time went on. The pull was growing stronger now, and all around him he could see the first signs of the change take effect of those assembled. His body went rigid, dropping to his own knees as his snout lengthened, bones snapping and reforming as the contracted, joints re-articulating themselves as fur enveloped his body, ears pricking upwards as his sense came alive in a new and unfamiliar way. Remus swallowed, his last conscious act a silent prayer for forgiveness as he sank into darkness, the wolf finally free and hungry for blood.


	5. I need you now

Blood. It was the first thing he could smell, and the first thing he could taste. The sickening metallic liquid fresh in his mouth as his hands scrambled into the dirt. He daren't open his eyes, lest the guilt be real. Remus shivered, his body battered and bruised from the transformation, his naked form now coated in dirt and scratches, an unfamiliar scent beneath his fingernails. His stomach lurched, coughing and spluttering as he vomited his life out onto the ground, trying to rid his body of that vile taste. He couldn't have done it, please Merlin, don't let it have been him.

The wizard braced himself, hands shifting forwards to support his body, palms landing in something distinctly wet. Finally he opened his eyes with apprehension, fear present in every bone, his breath catching in his chest as he took in the horrific sight just inches from his position. The lifeless corpse of the boy was before him, blood still oozing from a bite to the neck, flowing like a river of everything he'd ever feared. Never had he bitten someone, not once. He'd come close, but this was…a descent into damnation. He was one of them, a monster, an abomination. He wasn't fit for humanity.

Bowing his head in shame for his actions, the werewolf steeled his nerves, clamping his eyes shut for long enough to quell the sadness in his eyes. He would not show weakness, least of all to Fenrir Greyback. For the good of the order, he would pass on information, but he would not return to them. Not to his friends, nor to Tonks. This was where he belonged. In hell with the other misfits so inclined to rip life from the grasp of the young. A forced breath, and he was clawing himself back to the sanctuary of the trees. To seek out clothes, for warmth, and to wash away the red liquid coating his body like a casing of failure.

Remus wanted to forget. To pray it wasn't true, but the evidence was too great. He was by the boy's remains, covered in blood, it's vivid taste present on his lips and at the back of this throat. There was no other explanation, he had to have done it. A pained cry escaping his lips, the wizard punched a tree hard, knuckles blistered and bleeding as he sank to it's pace, defeated, disgusted and terrified of what he'd become.

Some feet away, the pack leader watched the spectacle with wry amusement, a sinister grin plastered across his face. The plan had worked then; the fool believed he'd done it. Lupin's pearly whites had been nowhere near that precious throat, that pulsating vein luring in the seasoned wolf with disregard for the traitor. No. That kill had been Greyback's and his alone. The blood was merely a coincidence, a lasting reminder of precisely how brutal a pack could be when one showed signs of weakness and doubt. He wouldn't tolerate it within his ranks, not now, not ever. So to push the revert over the edge, to heighten his descent into madness was glorious. He could taste the defeat in the air, and that flavor was so delectable, and so intoxicating, it meant that this kill was only the beginning.

It may have started as a trick, but sure enough, he would have Lupin's teeth around a throat before the next full moon was through. A bubblegum throat, if he had any sense about him, just to make the definition that much sweeter. Or perhaps the youngest Weasley boy, though he doubted such polluted blood would taste as sweet. The infernal changeling was best, to rip apart the one thing he held dear, to pin her down and watch her scream, to choke the life out of her, and sink those sharpened teeth into such pristine skin. If the mongrel wouldn't do it, he would, simply for the pain it would cause.

Cogs turning in his head, Greyback chuckled as he himself pandered off into the wilderness, to re-dress, and to begin his hunt, not as a wolf, but as a domineering man in want of a little entertainment. A careless glance was given to the dead boy, with an appreciative inhalation of the scent, as if someone were enjoying their morning cup of coffee. He reveled in that aroma, in the withdrawal of life, of the power it gave him, and precisely what it represented. Blood called for blood.

And now he was hungry for more.


End file.
